MOURNING  FG 
..^1.  IN  V..-4' v../i.ii^ 


FRANIiW.Z.BARRETT 


LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


MEMORIAL 

the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 

HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


■1 


-ot*^ 


^  ^^  ///^^ 


MOURNING 

FOR 

LINCOLN 


By 
FRANK  W.  Z.  BARRETT 

Q 

1909 

The  John  C.  Winston  Company 

philadelphia 


Copyright,  1909 

h 

F.  W.  Z.  BARRETT 


DeOfcateO 

to  tbe  best  of  motbets 

bs  bee  son 


tt 


'And  'when  the  sixth  hour  luas  come,  there 
'was  darkness  over  the  nuhole  land  until  the  ninth 
hour. " — Saint  Mark. 


INTRODUCTION, 

The  year  Nineteen  Hundred  and 
Nine  is  memorial  year  for  Abraham 
Lincoln,  in  which  many  phases  of  his- 
tory concerning  him  and  his  times  will 
he  considered,  and  the  nations  sorrow 
at  his  untimely  death  may  justly  claim 
a  place.  We  read  his  speeches  with 
pleasure,  laugh  at  his  jokes,  take  pride 
in  his  statesmanship,  glory  in  his  man- 
hood, marvel  at  his  patience,  and  are 
glad  to  honor  his  memory,  while  we 
almost  forget  the  somber  mountings 
from  which  the  gems  gleam. 

During  the  period  when  the  Ameri- 
can public  is,  specifically,  reviving  the 
Lincoln  memories,  it  is  proper  to 
attempt,  in  a  slight  degree  at  least,  an 
appreciation  of  the  colossal  sorrow 
which  culminated  in  the  death  of  the 
Emancipator.     No  more  touching  trih- 

1 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

ute  can  be  paid  to  the  veterans  and  the 
loyal  supporters  of  the  Civil  War  than 
to  carefully  and  seriously  note  the  great 
grief  which  followed  the  assassination 
of  their  beloved  leader.  But  the  study 
of  Lincoln  and  his  movements  among 
the  multitudes  will  no  more  cease  with 
the  ending  of  the  year  1909  than  will 
the  worship  of  Christ  end  with  Christ- 
mas. We  are  learning,  little  by  little, 
how  much  it  cost  America  to  make  a 
Lincoln,  and  the  price  a  President  paid 
to  maintain  a  republic.  Lincoln  and 
his  labors  glow  in  an  ever-deepening 
light,  for  they  were  laved  and  cleansed 
in  very  many  righteous  tears. 

Philadelphiaj  Pa, 


a 


iHmroIn'B  ^matftt  l^atm 


O,  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud? 
Like  a  fast-flitting  meteor,  a  faet-flying-  cloud, 
A  flash  of  the  lightning,  a  break  of  the  wave, 
He  passeth  from  life  to  his  rest  in  the  grave. 

The  leaves  of  the  oak  and  the  willow  shall 

fade, 
Be  scattered  around  and  together  be  laid ; 
And  the  young  and  the  old,  and  the  low  and 

the  high, 
Shall  molder  to  dust  and  together  shall  lie. 

The  infant  a  mother  attended  and  loved. 
The  mother  that  infant's  afifection  who  proved, 
The  husband  that    mother   and    infant    who 

blessed, 
Each,  all,  are  away  to  their  dwellings  of  rest. 

The  maid,  on  whose  cheek,  on  whose  brow,  in 

whose  eye, 
Shone    beauty    and    pleasure— her    triumphs 

are  by ; 
And  the  memory  of  those  who  loved  her  and 

praised. 
Are  alike  from  the  minds  of  the  living  erased. 


MOUENIXG     FOR     LINCOLN 

The  hand  of  the  king-  that  the  scepter  hath 

borne, 
The  brow  of  the  priest  that  the  miter  hath 

worn, 
The  eye  of   the  sage    and  the    heart  of    the 

brave, 
Are  hidden   and    lost    in  the   depths   of  the 

grave. 

The  peasant,  whose  lot  was  to  sow  and  to  reap, 

The  herdsman,  who  climbed  with  his  goats  to 

the  steep, 
The  beggar,  who  wandered  in   search  of  hia 

bread. 
Have  faded  away  like  the  grass  that  we  tread. 

The  saint  who   enjoyed    the    communion    of 

heaven, 
The  sinner  who  dared  to  remain  unforgiven, 
The  wise  and  the  foolish,  the  guilty  and  just, 
Have  quietly  mingled  their  bones  in  the  dust. 

So  the   multitude   goes,  like    the   flower   and 

the  weed. 
That  wither  away  to  let  others  succeed  ; 
So  the  multitude  comes,  even  those  we  behold. 
To  repeat  every  tale  that  hath  often  been  told. 

For  we  are  the  same  our  fathers  have  been  ; 
We  see  the  same  sights  our  fathers  have  seen — 
"We  drink  the  same  stream  and  view  the  same 

sun — 
And  run  the   same   course  that   our  fathers 

have  run. 

10 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

The  thoughts   we   are  thinking    our    fathers 

■would  think  ; 
From  the  death  we  are  shrinking  our  fathers 

would  shrink ; 
To  the  life  we  are  clinging  they  also  would 

cling, 
But  it  speeds  from  us  all  like  a  bird  on  the 

wing. 

They  loved,  but  the  story  we  cannot  unfold ; 
They  scorned,  but  the  heart  of  the  haughty  is 

cold ; 
They  grieved,  but  no  wail  from  their  slumber 

will  come  ; 
They  joyed,  but  the  tongue  of  their  gladness 

is  dumb. 

They  died !  aye,  they  died  ;  we  things  that  are 
now, 

That  walk  on  the  turf  that  lies  over  their  brow, 

And  make  in  their  dwellings  a  transient 
abode, 

Meet  the  things  that  they  met  on  their  pil- 
grimage road. 

Yea !    hope  and   despondency,  pleasure  and 

pain. 
We  mingle  together  in  sunshine  and  rain  ; 
And  the  smile  and  the  tear,  the  song  and  the 

dirge, 
Still  follow  each  other,  like  surge  upon  surge. 

II 


:mourning   for   Lincoln 

'Tis  the  -wink  of  an  eye,  'tia  the  draught  of  a 

breath, 
From  the  blossom  of  health  to  the  paleness  of 

death  ; 
From  the  gilded   saloon   to   the  bier  and  the 

shroud ; 
O,  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud? 

William  Knox. 


12 


MOURNING  FOR  LINCOLN. 

Longfellow  in  1850  wrote  "The 
Building  of  the  Ship."  In  the  original 
draft  of  the  writing  he  left  the  ship 
WTecked  upon  the  shoals,  but  when  the 
printed  proof  was  put  into  his  hands 
he  cculd  not  bear  to  read  of  his  beauti- 
ful ship  shattered  by  wind  and  rock; 
so,  although  the  poem  was  already  in 
press,  he  destroyed  that  fatal  ending 
and  ^vrote  the  apostrophe  with  which 
we  are  all  familiar: 

Thou,  too,  sail  on,  O  Ship  of  State! 

Sail  on,  O  Union,  strong  and  great! 

At  times  during  his  administration, 
]\Ir.  Lincoln  was  greatly  depressed ;  the 
smile  faded  from  his  lip,  and  the  sparkle 
died  out  of  his  eye.  During  one  of 
those  periods  he  read  the  speech  of  a 
Union  orator  in  which  the  latter  quoted 
the  apostrophe  from  "The  Building  of 

13 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  Ship."  The  speech  was  in  the 
morning  papers,  and  as  Mr.  Noah 
Brooks  called  on  the  President  that  day- 
he  found  him  reading  the  speech. 
Lincoln  nodded  to  his  caller  and  said: 
"Before  business,  let  me  read  you  this," 
and  with  deep  feeling  he  read  the  mem- 
orable passage.  Having  finished,  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  asked  who 
wrote  the  poem,  if  there  were  more 
stanzas  of  it,  and  where  it  could  be 
found.  Mr.  Brooks  told  him  the 
author's  name,  and  offered  to  recite  the 
poem  to  him.  Lincoln  requested  him 
to  do  so,  and  listened  with  great  earn- 
estness to  his  visitor.  The  poem  seemed 
to  dispel  the  President's  gloom,  for  he 
declared  that  he  believed  in  the  ship. 

On  Frida3^  April  14,  1865,  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet  and  General 
Grant  were  surmnoned  to  an  official 
meeting  at  11  o'clock.     The  President 

14 


MOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

asked  Grant  if  he  had  heard  anything 
from  Sherman;  to  which  Grant  replied 
that  he  had  not,  but  he  was  hourly 
expecting  dispatches  announcing  Johns- 
ton's surrender.  The  President  replied 
to  this  opinion  with  firmness:  "Well, 
you  will  hear  very  soon  now,  and  the 
news  will  be  important."  General 
Grant,  out  of  curiosity,  inquired:  "Why 
do  you  think  so?"  "Because,"  said 
Lincoln,  "I  had  a  dream  last  night, 
and  ever  since  the  war  began  1  have 
invariably  had  the  same  dream  before 
any  very  important  military  event." 
He  said  further  that  the  dream  had 
come  to  him  just  before  the  battles  of 
Bull  Run,  Antietam,  Gettysburg  and 
other  great  conflicts.  "The  dream," 
continued  he,  "is  that  I  saw  a  ship 
sailing  very  rapidly ;  and  I  am  sure  that 
it  portends  some  important  event." 

The  dream  ship  of  the  President  was 
one  with  the  poet's  Ship  of  State. 

IS 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

President  Lincoln  was  at  City  Point, 
Virginia,  when  Robert  E.  Lee  surren- 
dered his  army,  on  Palm  Sunday,  April 
9th,  to  General  Grant.  Soon  after  the 
glad  news  was  heard,  he  went  on  board 
the  "River  Queen"  returning  to  Wash- 
ington. The  boat  was  thoroughly 
searched  to  see  that  no  enemies  who' 
might  do  him  an  injury  were  on  board. 
A  guard  went  with  him — Lieutenant 
Commander  John  Barnes,  and  two 
ensigns,  who  were  never  for  a  moment, 
not  even  at  meal  time,  to  leave  the  Presi- 
dent alone.  No  precaution  which 
might  insure  his  safety  was  omitted. 

Admiral  Porter  had  charge  of  the 
arrangements  for  the  safe  return  of  the 
President  to  Washington.  But  after 
the  President  had  started  homeward  the 
Admiral  became  exceedingly  anxious 
concerning  the  Chief  Executive,  and, 
although  the  special  escort  returned 
reporting  their  charge  safe  in  the  White 

i6 


MOURNINa     FOR     LINCOLN 

House,  he  at  once  boarded  the  steamer 
"Tristram  Shandy,"  ordered  the  cap- 
tain to  put  on  full  head  of  steam  and 
land  him  in  Baltimore,  by  which  route 
he  could  soonest  reach  Washington. 
He  reached  the  wharf  at  Baltimore  in 
the  early  morning  and  sent  a  mate  to 
get  a  carriage  to  the  depot.  In  twenty 
minutes  the  mate  returned  with  ghastly 
face  and  trembling  limbs.  He  tottered 
into  the  cabin  but  could  not  speak,  and 
fell  upon  the  sofa  shaking  like  an 
aspen-leaf. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?" 
demanded  Admiral  Porter.  "Be  a 
man  and  tell  me ;  is  the  President  dead?" 

At  first  the  man  could  not  answer; 
at  last  he  stammered:  "Assassinated!" 

The  Admiral  was  too  late,  but  he  con- 
tinued his  journey  to  Washington. 
When  he  looked  once  more  at  the  Presi- 
dent, whose  eyes  would  never  open  on 
him  again,  turning  to  a  friend,  he  said: 

17 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

"There  lies  the  best  man  I  ever  knew, 
or  expect  to  know;  he  was  just  to  all 
men,  and  his  heart  was  full  to  overflow- 
ing with  kindness  towards  those  who 
accomplished  his  death." 

A  few  days  before  Lee's  surrender, 
the  President  had  instructed  Sherman 
to  offer  the  same  favorable  terms  of 
peace  to  General  Johnston  that  were 
made  to  Lee.  General  Sherman,  in 
reply,  declared  that  he  was  in  a  condi- 
tion to  compel  Johnston  to  accept  what- 
ever terms  he  might  offer.  Lincoln 
replied:  "Offer  him  the  same  terms  that 
were  given  to  Lee,  and  if  not  accepted, 
then  drive  him  to  it;  only  don't  let  us 
have  any  more  bloodshed  if  it  can  be 
avoided." 

On  the  morning  of  April  17th,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  left  camp  on  his  way  to 
confer  with  General  Johnston  concern- 
ing terms  of  capitulation.    As  he  was 

i8 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

boarding  the  train,  a  telegraph  operator 
hurriedly  requested  him  to  delay  a  few 
minutes  until  he  should  receive  an 
important  message  just  coming  over 
the  wire  from  Washington.  This  was 
Stanton's  dispatch  announcing  the 
assassination  of  the  President.  Sher- 
man read  the  message,  folded  it  as  if 
nothing  unusual  had  happened,  and 
quietly  put  it  into  his  pocket. 

"Have  3^ou  told  anyone  of  the  con- 
tents of  this  message?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then,"  commanded  Sherman, 
"speak  of  it  to  no  one  till  I  return." 
And  the  train  sped  away. 

The  two  generals,  Federal  and  Con- 
federate, with  their  respective  staffs, 
came  together  that  afternoon  at  the 
home  of  ]Mrs.  Bennett,  on  the  Raleigh 
Road,  near  Raleigh.  When  they  met, 
deneral  Sherman  at  once  asked  John- 
ston whether  he  had  heard  of  Lincoln's 

19 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

assassination.  General  Johnston  replied 
that  he  had  not.  Sherman  handed  him 
the  message.  As  he  read  the  sad 
account,  the  Confederate  was  greatly- 
moved,  and  after  a  moment's  thought, 
he  said  solemnly:  "The  death  of  Lin- 
coln, in  my  opinion,  is  the  greatest 
calamity  that  can  happen  to  the  South." 
During  the  war,  those  in  rebellion 
called  Lincoln  robber,  murderer,  tyrant, 
and  wished  him  all  manner  of  evil ;  but 
by  the  time  the  struggle  was  drawing 
toward  its  close,  they  had  begun  to 
understand  that  he  was  their  earnest 
friend  and  that  he  would  grant,  them 
as  favorable  terms  as  he  could.  Th^;-e 
was  no  man  of  the  nation  who  longed 
more  earnestly  for  a  reconciliation  with 
the  people  in  secession  than  the  Presi- 
dent ;  and  there  was  now  no  one  remain- 
ing w^ho  had  so  earned  and  won  their 
confidence.  Now  that  they  were  con- 
quered, those  of  them  who  knew  him 

20 


aMOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

best,  loved  him  as  wayward  and  repent- 
ant children.  So  the  South,  as  well  as 
the  North,  mourned  at  the  death  of 
their  truest  friend. 

News  of  the  assassination  reached 
New  York.  The  emporium  stirs  in 
an  instant.  Flags  in  the  harbor  drop 
to  half-mast.  The  city  rocks  in  a  ter- 
rible rage.  It  seethes  and  boils;  it 
hisses  and  curses.  It  calls  down  impre- 
cations upon  the  murderers.  It  imph- 
cates  all  the  Confederates  in  the  horrid 
crime,  and  calls  with  voice  five  hundred 
thousand  strong:  "No  more  compro- 
mise; no  more  dallying;  no  more  for- 
giving; we  take  no  prisoners;  we  give 
no  quarter  to  the  Rebel  leaders;  but 
one  thing  now — a  dog's  death  by  the 
gallows-tree !  Henceforth  between  them 
and  us,  war  to  the  knife,  and  the  knife 
tothehntr 

21 


MOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

An  officer  in  the  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac received  a  telegram.  It  announced 
the  murder  of  the  President.  He  called 
a  friend  and  said:  "Read  that!"  The 
young  man  gasped ;  he  re-read ;  his  face 
grew  livid;  he  rushed  from  the  tent 
calhng  hoarsely:  "Boys,  Lincoln's  dead; 
murdered  by  an  assassin ;  and  the  assas- 
sin has  escaped  I" 

The  soldiers  began  to  assemble.  At 
first  they  were  stunned  and  they 
refused  to  believe.  But  the  message 
soon  settled  the  terrible  fact.  What  a 
scene  followed,  as  they  shout  from  tent 
to  tent  and  regiment  to  regiment: 
"Boys,  Father  Abraham  is  killed!  Boys, 
Lincoln  is  assassinated!"  Then  rose 
one  mighty  sweeping,  swelling  curse. 
They  called  for  a  judgment-day  in 
which  all  Rebels  were  to  stand  before  a 
fiery  tribunal.  "Oh,  God,  Thou  Mighty 
One,  as  they  have  dealt  with  us,  help 
us  to  deal  with  them  and  theirs !"     The 

22 


MOURNING     FOE    LINCOLN 

cry  was  carried  to  every  part  of  the 
army,  and  wherever  it  went  anger  and 
choler  followed  in  its  wake.  "Now, 
now  we're  in  for  war  that  will  wipe 
the  Rebs,  root  and  branch,  from  off  the 
earth!  General  Grant,  turn  us  loose, 
and  we'll  go  down  into  the  South  and 
exterminate  the  vile  horde !  Give  back 
to  Lee  his  men  and  their  arms;  give 

back  to  the Rebels  their  forts  and 

their  rivers,  their  ships  and  their  pris- 
oners ;  aye,  even  the  States  we  have  torn 
from  them;  give  them  their  horses  and 
their  guns,  and  their  niggers  to  dig 
their  trenches;  give  them  a  treaty  with 
England  and  France ;  give  them  every- 
thing they  possessed  or  could  possess; 
only  turn  us  loose  on  them!  General 
Grant,  turn  us  loose  upon  them!  Let 
us  go  once  more  into  the  South,  and 
we  will  leave  standing  not  a  tree  nor  an 
orchard,  nor  a  cotton-field;  not  a  citj^ 
nor  a  town  nor  a  village ;  aye,  we'll  drive 

23 


MOUENING    FOR    LINCOLN 

the  whole  abominable  race  of  murderers 
into  the  seal  No,  that  will  be  too  good 
for  them!  We'll  drive  them  into  hell, 
where  they  belong,  and  then  we'll 
furnish  volunteers  to  keep  the  fires 
burning  everlastingly!  Turn  us  loose 
and  we'll  avenge  the  death  of  our  good 
Father  Abraham !" 

A  Confederate  had  been  with  Robert 
E.  Lee  at  Harper's  Ferry  when  John 
Brown  was  seized.  Later  he  became 
colonel  of  the  First  Virginia  Regulars, 
and  was  captured,  together  with  several 
hundred  other  Confederates,  a  few  days 
before  Lee  surrendered.  With  some 
other  officers  he  was  confined  in  the  old 
Capitol  Prison  in  Washington.  In  the 
city  he  had  influential  friends  who  were 
completing  arrangements  for  his  libera- 
tion. A  few  hours  before  the  assassin- 
ation they  had  visited  him  in  prison 
and  said:  "Cheer  up,  old  fellow,  you'll 

24 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

soon  be  out;  the  papers  are  ready  and 
they  will  probably  be  signed  to-mor- 
row." They  left  the  colonel  in  a 
pleasant  frame  of  mind.  That  night, 
as  he  and  some  of  his  companions  were 
talking  of  their  speedy  release,  they 
heard  ominous  sounds  outside  the  prison 
walls.  First  there  were  a  few  voices 
speaking  in  undertones;  then  there 
were  many  voices  swearing  furi- 
ously:   "Let's    bring    out    the    G 

d d  Rebels  and  hang  every  one  of 

them!"  The  prisoners  did  not  know 
what  had  caused  the  uproar,  but  they 
understood  by  the  tumult  that  some- 
thing fearful  had  happened.  They 
could  hear  sounds  of  the  guards  being 
doubled;  the  mutterings  of  growing 
anger;  likewise  voices  urging  an  onset 
upon  the  prison.  The  click  of  guns 
and  the  tread  of  guards  became  so  con- 
stant that  they  watched  to  see  the  doors 
broken  in,  and  they  expected  that  at 

25 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

any  moment  they  might  be  dragged 
outside  the  prison  and  hanged  by  the 
infuriated  mob.  Still  they  did  not 
know  what  had  happened.  The  impre- 
cations and  steady  tread  of  the  guards 
continued  all  night.  In  the  morning 
the  prison  doors  were  flung  open  and 
the  prisoners  beheld  a  startling  sight. 
The  streets  were  filled  from  curb  to 
curb  with  citizens  and  soldiers,  and  the 
soldiers  were  keeping  at  bay  a  fierce 
crowd,  whose  faces  M'^ere  rigid  in  deter- 
mination and  anger.  Between  rows  of 
iron-visaged  men  whose  bayonets  w^ere 
fixed  for  instant  service,  the  prisoners 
were  marched  at  quick-step  to  the  rail- 
road station,  where  they  were  placed  in 
box  cars,  the  doors  slammed  shut,  and 
the  train  started — for  what  place  they 
knew  not.  Three  days  without  light 
they  traveled.  When  at  last  the  doors 
were  opened  the}^  found  themselves  at 
Sandusky,  on  Lake  Erie,  and  on  their 

26 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

way  to  Johnson's  Island,  a  Union  Civil 
War  prison  from  which  no  one  was  ever 
able  to  make  his  escape.  The  colonel 
leaves  it  on  record  that  he  was  never 
so  glad  for  any  other  thing  in  all  his 
life  as  he  was  to  get  out  of  Washington 
wlien  Lincoln  was  assassinated. 

Imprecations  flew  over  the  country 
like  whiffs  from  demons'  nostrils.  The 
fierceness  of  the  soldiers'  wrath  was 
beyond  the  power  of  language  to 
express.  Had  the  Federal  Army  then 
been  turned  loose  against  the  foe,  in  its 
violent  state  of  rage,  it  would  literally 
have  exterminated  the  people  of  the 
South.  Doubtless  that  danger  was 
in  Johnston's  mind  when  he  said: 
"Lincoln's  death  is  the  greatest  calam- 
ity which  can  happen  to  the  South." 
Had  Lee's  surrender  a  short  time 
before  not  placed  him  and  his  army 
under  the  protection  of  the  North,  they 
might  have  become  the  mop  with  which 

27 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

to  wipe  out  the  infamous  stain  of  the 
assassin's  deed. 

But  v/iser  judgment  prevailed.  The 
mingled  anger  and  sorrow  of  the  nation 
settled  into  a  sullen  roar  of  pain;  pain 
all  the  more  touching  because  with  the 
anger  and  sorrow  were  mingled  for- 
giving prayers.  It  soon  became  known 
that  there  was  no  concerted  operation  on 
the  part  of  the  Confederacy  to  murder 
the  President.  The  mass  of  people  in 
the  South  and  soldiers  in  the  Confed- 
erate army  knew  nothing  of  the  plot. 
A  few  desperate  characters  had  planned 
and  executed  the  fiendish  scheme  which 
resulted  in  the  death  of  the  President 
and  the  serious  wounding  of  Mr. 
Seward,  the  Secretary  of  State. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  on  April 
14,  1861,  Major  Robert  Anderson,  of 
the  United  States  Army,  after  firing 
a  salute  to  the  Union  flag,  surrendered 

28 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

Fort  Sumter  to  the  Confederates.  On 
the  14.th  day  of  April,  1865,  exactly 
four  years  after  his  capitulation, 
Brigadier-General  Robert  Anderson  is 
again  at  Charleston  Harbor.  With  him 
are  such  orators  as  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  Doctor  Storrs,  together  with 
other  great  and  brave  men  of  the  land, 
all  assembled  to  hoist  the  identical  flag 
which  Major  Anderson  had  hauled 
down  four  years  before.  Promptly  at 
noon,  as  the  people  shout  and  the  guns 
boom  from  half  a  dozen  batteries,  and 
the  bands  play  national  airs.  General 
Anderson  with  his  own  hand  pulls  the 
flag  into  place.  On  the  evening  of  the 
same  day,  a  banquet  is  given  at  the 
Charleston  Hotel;  six  or  more  promi- 
nent speakers  eulogize  Mr.  Lincoln, 
praising  him  in  such  words  as  no  ruler 
of  a  republic  had  ever  before  been 
praised.  Finally,  at  the  close  of  Gen- 
eral Anderson's  toast,  he  lifts  his  glass 

29 


MOURNING     FOR    LINCOLN 

with  the  words:  "I  beg  you  now  that 
you  will  join  me  in  drinking  the  health 
of  another  man — one  whom  we  all  love 
to  honor — the  man  who,  when  elected 
President  of  the  United  States,  was 
compelled  to  reach  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment without  an  escort ;  but  a  man  who 
now  could  travel  all  over  the  country 
with  millions  of  hands  and  hearts  to 
sustain  him,  I  give  you  the  good,  the 
great,  the  honest  man,  Abraham  Lin- 
coln." 

On  that  very  hour  the  President  was 
assassinated. 

On  Monday,  April  10th,  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Bowman,  subsequently  a 
bishop  in  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  but  at  the  time  Chaplain  of 
the  Senate,  visited  Lincoln  to  warn 
him  of  danger.  He  told  the  President 
how  a  few  days  before,  as  he  was  about 
to  open  a  session  of  the  Senate  with 

30 


MOURNIXG     FOR     LINCOLN 

prayer,  a  man  entered  the  hall,  and  by- 
his  strange  appearance  had  so  impressed 
Dr.  Bowman  that  he  could  not  for 
several  minutes  proceed  with  the  sacred 
services.  Subsequently  he  had  seen  this 
remarkable  visitor  prowling  about  the 
White  H^ouse,  and  he  was  convinced  by 
the  man's  actions  that  he  was  bent  on 
some  crime.  Mr  Lincoln,  however, 
could  not  believe  that  anyone  would 
injure  him  and,  strange  to  relate,  felt 
especially  safe  in  the  presence  of  the 
man  whom  the  chaplain  feared.  Later 
events  proved  that  the  fear  of  Dr.  Bow- 
man was  well  founded. 

On  the  evening  of  April  14th,  Mr. 
Lincoln,  accompanied  by  his  wife  and 
two  young  friends.  Major  Rathburn 
and  ]Miss  Harris,  attended,  by  special 
invitation  of  its  manager.  Ford's  Thea- 
ter. The  morning  papers  had  announced 
that  he  would  be  present,  and  the  house 
was  jfacked  by  admirers,  who  cheered 

31 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

loudly  as  he  entered.  Passing  the  door, 
he  spoke  kindly  to  an  actor,  J.  Wilkes 
Booth,  for  whom  he  entertained  a 
favorable  regard.  It  was  Booth  whom 
Dr.  Bowman  feared.  Booth  belonged 
to  a  secret  order  which  had  as  its  object 
the  assassination  of  the  Chief  Execu- 
tive, Mr.  Seward,  Vice-president  John- 
son, Secretary  Stanton,  General  Grant 
and  Chief -Justice  Chase.  At  the 
theater  where  he  went  to  shoot  the 
President,  he  was  so  kindly  greeted  by 
Mr.  Lincoln  that  he  was  unnerved  and 
his  courage  failed.  So  seriously  was  he 
affected  that  he  was  unable  to  perpe- 
trate the  deed  until  he  had  rushed  from 
the  theater  to  a  saloon  near  at  hand, 
where  he  called  in  excited  tones: 
"Brandy!  brandy!  brandy!"  Hastily 
drinking  two  glasses  of  the  stimulant, 
he  returned  directly  to  the  theater. 
Entering  the  President's  private  box, 
he  stood  beliind  Lincoln,  took  dehberate 

32 


MOURNING     FOR    LINCOLN 

aim,  and  sent  a  bullet  through  his  vic- 
tim's brain.  The  President's  head 
dropped  upon  his  chest,  he  bent  slightly 
forward,  his  body  became  motionless, 
he  uttered  no  word  nor  sound.  Booth 
had  secured  his  man  and  played  his  part 
in  the  terrible  tragedy. 

Abbott,  the  historian,  says:  "The 
President  was  taken  into  a  house  near 
by  and  placed  upon  a  bed.  What  a 
scene  was  here !  The  chief  of  a  mighty 
nation  lay  there  senseless,  drenched  in 
blood,  his  brains  oozing  from  the 
wound.  Sumner  and  Farwell  and  Col- 
fax and  Stanton  and  many  others  were 
there,  pallid  with  grief  and  consterna- 
tion. The  surgeon.  General  Barnes, 
solemnly  examined  the  wound.  There 
was  silence  as  of  the  grave.  The  life 
or  death  of  a  nation  seemed  dependent 
on  the  result.  General  Barnes  looked 
up  sadly  and  said:  "The  wound  is 
mortal."     "Oh,  no!  General,  no!  no!" 

33 


MOURNING    FOR     LINCOLN 

cried  Secretary  Stanton,  and,  sinking 
into  a  chair,  he  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands  and  wept  Hke  a  child.  Senator 
Sumner  tenderly  holds  the  hand  of  the 
unconscious  martyr.  Though  all  unused 
to  weep,  he  sobs  as  though  his  great 
heart  would  break.  In  his  anguish  his 
head  falls  upon  the  blood-stained  pil- 
low, his  black  locks  blend  with  those 
of  the  dying  victim,  which  toil  and  care 
have  rendered  gray,  and  which  blood 
has  crimsoned. 

The  following  morning  Secretary 
Stanton  said,  as  he  caressed  and  lifted 
the  hand  of  the  expired  President: 
"Ah,  dear  friend,  there  is  none  now  to 
do  me  justice;  none  to  tell  the  world  of 
the  anxious  hours  we  have  spent 
together." 

And  now  the  nation  rapidly  becomes 
an  immense  death  chamber  in  which  the 
citizens  as  children  learn  that  they  have 

34 


MOUllNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

lost  their  well-beloved  father.  The 
depressed  spirit  which  takes  possession 
of  those  gathered  about  the  body 
of  Abraham  Lincoln  escapes  through 
the  door  and  spreads  as  a  pall  over  the 
fair  fields  of  a  continent,  and  like  a 
dread  monster  whom  all  fear,  strikes 
terror  and  despair  to  the  hearts  of  those 
who  hear  of  the  tragedy. 

"Let  us  visit  our  pastor  to-day,"  says 
a  wife  to  her  husband,  and  together 
they  drive  across  the  country.  On  their 
way  they  hear  that  Mr.  Lincoln  is  dead. 
They  continue  their  journey  until  they 
come  to  the  minister's  house ;  but  he  can 
not  see  them,  for  the  terrible  news  has 
smitten  him,  and  he  is  unable  to  arise 
from  his  bed. 

A  traveler  was  in  the  eastern  part  of 
Iowa,  and  as  his  train  was  starting,  a 
friend  jumped  to  the  platform  and 
called  to  him:  "News  has  just  come 
from  Washington  that  Lincoln  is  assas- 

35 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

sinated."  The  train  was  moving  so 
rapidly  that  no  more  could  be  said,  and 
the  informant  leaped  to  the  ground. 
On  the  train  went,  passing  station  after 
station,  but  no  word  was  heard  from  the 
Capital.  Agents  were  asked  as  to  the 
truth  or  falsity  of  the  report,  but  none 
of  them  knew.  The  traveler,  after 
hours  of  anxiety,  entered  a  stage  coach 
and  rode  into  the  night.  At  last  he 
came  to  a  place  called  Newton,  where 
fresh  horses  were  hitched  to  the  coach. 
Here  was  a  small  telegraph  station,  and 
around  it  were  gathered  the  men  of  the 
place.  They  listened  breathlessly  as 
the  operator  slowly  read  from  the  line 
the  account  of  the  President's  death. 
The  night  and  the  loneliness  of  the 
place  were  symbols  of  the  gathering 
gloom. 

An  Ohio  regiment  lay  encamped  on 
the  Tombigbee  River.  They  were  a 
jolly  set  of  boys,  singing  jolly  songs. 

36 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

Suddenly  all  mirth  ceased,  from  one  to 
the  other  went  the  rumor:  "Lincoln  is 
assassinated."  Drum  ceased  its  beat- 
ing and  fife  its  shrill  note.  Swift- 
mounted  horsemen  halted  in  their  task 
of  grooming  or  pulled  the  bit  before 
setting  off  on  another  task.  Men  gath- 
ered in  knots  and  whispered  of  the 
awful  deed.  Veterans,  those  who  had 
marched,  and  fought,  and  slept,  and 
ate  with  messmate  for  j'^ears,  and  had 
at  last  buried  that  military  companion 
without  shedding  a  tear,  now  sobbed 
like  children.  The  funeral  dirge  rolls 
over  the  camp,  and  the  saddest  march 
of  four  long  j^ears  has  begun.  An 
army  is  preparing  to  read  its  funeral 
ritual  over  its  Chief  Commander. 

Large  numbers  of  the  Fourth  Corps 
of  the  Armv  of  the  Cumberland  were 
stationed  in  Eastern  Tennessee,  thirty 
miles  out  from  Greenville,  North  Caro- 
lina, where  was  located  the  nearest  tele- 

Z7 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

graph  station.  They  were  to  cut  off 
the  retreat  of  Lee  should  he  escape 
with  his  army  from  Richmond.  Their 
camp  was  on  an  elevation,  and  the  road 
leading  to  it  was  for  four  miles  in  plain 
view.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  15th  of 
April,  a  courier  riding  a  fleet-footed 
horse  entered  the  four-mile  stretch.  He 
halted  an  instant  at  each  sentry,  and 
then  raced  along  toward  the  camp.  The 
attention  of  the  officers  was  called  to 
the  peculiar  behavior  of  the  videttes, 
as  one  after  the  other  listened  to  the 
horseman  and  allowed  him  to  pass.  The 
soldiers  were  accustomed  to  couriers, 
but  never  before  had  they  seen  such 
actions  on  the  part  of  their  videttes. 
The  camp  watched  the  rapidly 
approaching  herald  with  wonder;  but 
no  one  even  guessed  the  contents  of  his 
message.  The  worse  they  dreamed  of 
was  another  upheaval  of  the  foe,  for 
which  they  were  prepared.     But  the 

38 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

queer  actions  of  the  sentinels,  what 
could  they  mean  ?  With  foaming  horse 
the  messenger  arrives  in  their  midst  and 
announces:  "Lincoln  is  dead;  killed  by 
an  assassin;  Booth  has  escaped!" 

Strong  men  turned  towards  one 
another  and  without  a  word  fell  into 
each  others  arms  and  moaned  outright. 
The  evening  was  usually  spent  in  song 
and  story-telling  and  jollity.  Now 
there  was  no  song,  no  shout,  no  joy; 
nothing  but  fearful  forebodings  and 
prophecies  as  to  the  consequences  of  the 
crime. 

The  Soldiers'  Home,  in  Chicago,  was 
arranging  for  a  fair,  and  for  the  first 
time  since  Mr.  Lincoln  left  for  Wash- 
ington, his  home  State  was  to  welcome 
him  once  more.  The  home  was  new — 
erected  for  the  soldiers  of  the  war  now 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  a  great  throng 
expected  to  attend  the  fair;  multitudes 
of  friends  hoped  to  grasp  the  Presi- 

39 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

dent's  hand  and  say:  "God  bless  you! 
We  have  prayed  for  you,  we  are  proud 
of  you,  welcome  home!"  And  in  the 
busy  preparations  for  breaking  the 
ground  where  the  fair  was  to  be  held 
was  heard  the  hum  of  happy  voices. 
Processions  were  ready  for  a  splendid 
pageant — when  lo !  at  the  very  time  the 
joyous  people  were  beginning  their 
task  of  love,  they  read :  "Lincoln  assas- 
sinated last  night ;  died  this  morning  at 
7.22  o'clock."  Their  songs  of  rejoicing 
turned  into  a  mourning  dirge;  unut- 
terable woe  smote  the  people,  and  none 
escaped  the  funeral  wail.  The  proces- 
sion was  abandoned,  and  the  day  prom- 
ising sunshine  and  joys  became  one  of 
clouds  and  gloom.  Loyal  women  who 
were  to  have  worn  adornments  of  roses, 
draped  themselves  with  crepe,  and 
emblems  of  mourning  covered  their 
heads. 

40 


MOURNING     FOR    LINCOLN 

The  President  breathed  his  last  at 
twenty-two  minutes  past  seven,  on 
Saturday  morning,  April  the  15th. 
During  the  night  the  country  was  noti- 
fied of  the  assassination  and  that  the 
worst  was  to  be  expected.  As  the  mes- 
sage of  the  nation's  loss  flashed  through 
the  land,  a  mighty  and  united  move- 
ment takes  place.  People  everywhere 
are  astir.  Some  one  in  the  rural  dis- 
trict hears  of  the  calamity  and  starts  on 
foot  or  on  horseback  to  the  house  of  his 
next  neighbor;  arriving,  he  begins: 
"Have  you  heard?" —  and  he  can  go 
no  farther;  he  breaks  down  and  sobs. 
Again  he  begins:  "Have  you  heard  of 
the  assassination? — oh!"  And  this  man 
of  sturdy  build,  whom  no  one  has  ever 
seen  shed  a  tear,  leans,  as  one  mortally 
wounded,  against  a  fence,  or  drops  to 
a  sitting  posture  on  the  ground,  while 
great  paroxysms  shake  his  body  and 
he  mourns  piteously.     At  last  he  calms 

41 


MOURNING     FOE    LINCOLN 

himself,  and  between  sobs,  says :  "Presi- 
dent Lincoln  is  dead."  The  neighbor, 
all  unprepared,  staggers  forward  and 
gasps:  "What?  You  don't  mean  that 
Father  Abraham  is  dead?  When,  and 
where,  and  how?"  These  neighbors  sit 
together  as  the  first  relates  the  appalling 
story;  then  messenger  number  two 
starts  for  his  next  neighbor,  carrying 
with  him  the  almost  unbearable  story. 
The  news  spreads  over  the  country  dis- 
tricts almost  as  rapidly  as  it  does 
through  the  cities ;  and  knots  of  pastoral 
people  gather  and  weep  and  sigh;  they 
wring  their  hands  and  are  comfortless. 
They  moan:  "Our  President  is  dead! 
Why  did  they  do  it!  The  government 
cannot  stand;  it  is  going  down.  Good, 
kind,  forgiving  Father  Abraham  is 
killed!"     And  the  moaning  goes  on. 

In  the  cities  another  movement  takes 
place.  First,  there  is  great  astonish- 
ment, followed  by  intense  anger,  which 

42 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

in  turn  gives  place  to  nameless  gloom. 
Flags  and  banners  are  everywhere  fly- 
ing in  honor  of  the  surrender  of  Lee, 
and  in  token  of  the  rapidly-coming 
peace.  Now  a  man  sees  a  flag  flying, 
and  without  a  w^ord  runs  to  the  staff 
and  begins  to  lower  the  colors.  A 
woman  throws  a  light  shawl  over  her 
head  and  starts  for  the  store  where  she 
buys  black;  black  crape,  black  ribbon, 
black  cloth;  and  if  she  is  poor  and  has 
but  few  pennies,  or  if  she  comes  late, 
she  has  to  be  content  with  black  paper; 
for  in  many  of  the  cities  black  dr apings 
from  the  looms  were  exhausted  before 
10  o'clock.  All  this  blackness  is  for 
decorative  purposes ;  as  though  the  dead 
could  see!  Thimble  and  needle  and 
fingers  work  rapidly;  and  in  an  hour 
from  the  dipping  of  the  flag,  it  is  again 
hauled  slowly  into  place  at  half-mast, 
and  bordered  on  one  or  two  or  three 
or  four  sides  by  a  wide  band  of  crape. 

43 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

And  this  work  in  blackness  continued 
throughout  that  Saturday.  Had  angels 
from  the  black  pit  appeared  they  could 
have  added  nothing  to  the  signs  of 
despondency  and  despair. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  in 
which  multitudes  were  wont  to  meet  in 
commemoration  of  the  resurrection  of 
their  Lord.  It  was  Easter  Sunday,  but 
preachers,  for  once,  almost  forgot  the 
resurrection  and  its  precious  promises. 
For  four  years  the  land  had  seen  death, 
but  no  resurrection.  A  coming  back  to 
life  seemed  unthinkable.  Homes  emp- 
tied of  fathers  and  sons  and  brothers 
proved  that  all  was  death,  death,  death. 
Throughout  the  country  on  the  follow- 
ing Wednesday  funeral  services  were 
appointed  for  the  departed  President; 
but  neither  preachers  nor  people  could 
wait;  and  this  Resurrection  Sabbath 
was  a  day  of  funerals  continent-wide. 
The  minds  of  the  people  were  saturated 

44 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

with  the  thought  of  death  in  the  prison, 
death  in  the  hospital,  death  on  the 
skirmish-line,  death  on  the  battle-field, 
death  in  the  camp  and,  most  horrible  of 
all,  death  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin! 

Immediately  after  the  President 
ceased  to  breathe,  Secretary  Stanton 
called  a  Cabinet  meeting  in  the  room 
where  the  body  lay.  No  minutes  of  the 
meeting  were  taken,  and  nothing  is 
known  of  its  results;  its  lips  are  like 
those  of  the  dead,  silent  forever.  The 
days  that  followed  were  those  of  silence 
almost  supreme. 

At  half  past  nine  the  body  was 
removed  to  the  White  House,  where  it 
was  embalmed.  The  hearse  which  car- 
ried the  dead  was  wrapped  in  the  folds 
of  an  immense  flag,  and  surrounded  by 
military  guards  and  officers  on  foot. 
Great  crowds  followed  it  to  the  White 
House,  but  they  were  excluded  by  mili- 

45 


-  1  ■  ■  ■  .»-:^-«i- 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

tary  orders.  Here  the  martyr  was  pre- 
pared for  public  funeral.  At  first  it 
was  planned  to  have  services  in  Wash- 
ington and  then  send  the  beloved  dead 
direct  to  his  home  State  for  burial. 
But  the  nation  would  not  have  it  so. 
The  people  of  many  States  demanded, 
wdth  mjT-iad  voices,  that  his  body  be  sent 
to  them,  that  they  might  take  one  last 
look  into  his  homely,  honest  face.  The 
nation  decreed  so  to  honor  their  dead 
father,  and  to  meet  their  desire  a 
funeral  train  of  eight  coaches  was 
arranged  to  travel  to  Baltimore,  to 
Harrisburg,  to  Philadelphia,  to  New 
York  City,  to  Albany,  to  Buffalo,  to 
Cleveland,  to  Columbus,  to  Indian- 
apolis, to  Chicago,  to  Springfield,  Illi- 
nois, where  in  Oak  Ridge  Cemetery  the 
great  President  was  to  be  entombed. 

At  the  White  House,  Lincoln's  body, 
dressed  in  the  suit  he  wore  at  his  second 

46 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

inauguration,  was  first  laid  out  in  the 
guest  room;  but  on  Tuesday  it  was 
placed  in  the  East  Room  that  the  pubhc 
might  view  it  for  the  last  time.  Here,  on 
Wednesday,  the  funeral  services  were 
held,  beginning  at  half  past  eleven. 
There  were  present  the  members  of  the 
Cabinet;  the  assistant  secretaries  of  the 
Deputies;  the  State  Senators;  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  in  full 
court  suits;  the  wives  of  the  Cabinet 
Ministers;  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme 
Court;  the  new  President,  Mr.  John- 
son; State  Representatives;  delegates 
from  the  clergy,  from  municipalities, 
from  chambers  of  commerce,  from  com- 
mon councils,  from  union  leagues,  and 
from  other  organizations  belonging  to 
almost  every  loyal  State  in  the  Union. 
It  was  two  o'clock  when  the  service 
closed  and  the  funeral  cortege  moved 
slowly  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue  to 
the  Capitol  Building.     At  the  head  of 

47 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  procession,  as  guard  of  honor, 
walked  a  splendidly  equipped  comj)any 
of  negro  soldiers,  recently  emancipated 
by  the  proclamation  of  ]Mr.  Lincoln. 
All  the  civil  dignitaries  rode  in  car- 
riages. There  were  the  hoof-beats  of 
cavalry  and  the  stately  tramp  of 
infantry.  The  rattle  of  artillery 
sounded  above  the  sad  music  of  the  mili- 
tary bands.  On  either  side  of  the 
avenue  were  the  people  who  were  gath- 
ered to  see  their  President  as  he  passed 
on  his  last  farewell.  From  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  two  in  the  after- 
noon do  they  wait;  but  they  look  upon 
the  black  catafalque  at  last  as  it  slowly 
moves  along.  JMultitudes  of  citizens 
join  the  procession  and  escort  the  dead 
to  the  Capitol. 

The  whole  nation  seemed  draped  in 
black;  one  city  is  as  another.  Every- 
where the  flags  on  the  government 
buildings    are    at    half-mast,    and   the 

48 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

numerous  symbols  of  sorrow  are  wide- 
spread as  the  continent.  At  the  hour 
of  service  the  churches  in  every  city, 
from  ocean  to  ocean,  are  crowded  with 
mourners.  This  seemed  to  be  the 
funeral  not  of  one  man,  but  of  a  nation. 
This  people  who,  for  almost  a  hundred 
years,  had  boasted  of  being  the  most 
independent,  as  they  had  tried  to  be 
the  best  of  the  earth,  now  seemed  with- 
out a  leader.  The  cities  stood  still ;  the 
States  moved  not;  and  the  nation  was 
silent  save  for  the  innumerable  voices 
in  the  undertones  of  woe.  The  flags 
of  Europe  and  Asia  and  the  isles  of  the 
seas  drooped  in  the  presence  of  such 
unexpected  grief. 

And  yet  it  was  not  the  assassination 
of  Lincoln  alone  that  caused  all  this 
unheard-of  emotion.  His  death  was 
but  the  culmination  of  a  four  years' 
long  tragedy,  which  directly  involved, 
as  actors  on  the  stage,  nearly  three  mil- 

49 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

lion,  five  hundred  thousand  American 
soldiers.  Of  these,  more  than  two  mil- 
lion were  from  the  loj^al  States ;  and  the 
remainder  were  from  the  South,  which 
drove  into  its  ranks,  either  as  enlisted 
men,  or  as  home  guards,  in  that  vast 
military  camp,  every  able-bodied  male, 
from  the  boy  of  fourteen  and  younger, 
to  the  snowy-haired  grandfather  who 
counted  his  age  at  three-score  and  ten. 
Of  those  in  the  Northern  army  act- 
ually engaged  in  warfare,  one  out 
of  every  five  lay  under  the  sod  when 
peace  was  declared.  There  were  in 
our  land  nearly  four  hundred  thou- 
sand new-made  graves  in  which  were 
lying  in  unbroken  slumber  the  heroes 
of  as  many  Northern  homes.  If  the 
proportion  of  deaths  in  the  Confed- 
erate army  were  allowed  to  be  a  lit- 
tle less,  still  there  were  not  fewer  than 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
chairs    forever    vacant    in    the    lovely 

so 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

land  of  Dixie.  Granting  six  feet 
to  a  grave,  and  placing  the  dead, 
head  and  foot  together,  in  one  long 
trench,  that  trench,  beginning  at 
Washington,  would  cross  the  Poto- 
mac River,  the  northern  point  of 
Virginia,  go  over  the  mountains  and 
into  the  valleys  across  West  Virginia, 
through  the  southern  point  of  Ohio, 
over  the  northern  crest  of  Kentucky, 
across  the  entire  State  of  Indiana,  into 
Illinois,  through  that  commonwealth, 
and  would  terminate  on  the  banks  of 
the  JNIississippi  River,  a  little  north  of 
St.  Louis.  This  is  the  size  of  the  grave 
which  would  hold  the  men  who  died  in 
the  rebellion  from  1861  to  1865.  Could 
this  trench  with  its  ghastly  contents  be 
transferred  to  Europe,  it  would  reach 
from  the  city  of  Brest,  on  the  northwest 
coast  of  France,  diagonally  the  longest 
way  across  that  republic,  to  the  south- 
east, through  the  city  of  Nice,  out  into 

SI 


— ,->-,^^^.— .^■,-.- 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  would  ter- 
minate midway  betvv'een  the  continent 
and  the  Island  of  Corsica;  and  the 
fathers  and  mothers  of  all  these  sons 

•  were  ruthlessly  summoned,  by  the  act 
of  Booth,  to  the  funeral-feste. 

In  1861  there  were  in  the  United 
States  of  America  thirty-six  States. 
These  States  are  divided  into  counties, 
of  which  there  are  about  one  thousand, 
four  hundred  and  thirty-two;  these  are 
again  subdivided  into  smaller  tracts,  or 
townships.  Allowing  twentj^  of  these 
smaller  divisions  for  each  county,  there 
are  twenty-eight  thousand,  six  hundred 
and  forty  townships  in  the  thirty-six 
States.  Of  this  number,  there  were 
thousands  of  townships  in  the  frontiers 

,  which  were  entirely  without  human 
inhabitants,  while  other  thousands  had 
but  few.  When  the  dead  soldiers  are 
distributed  equally  among  the  town- 
ships, for  burial,  there  are  twenty-one 

52 


MOURNING     FOR    LINCOLN 

graves  to  each,  or  an  average  in  each 
of  five  funerals  a  year  for  the  four 
years  of  the  war.  There  was  not  a  city 
nor  a  village,  nor  a  community  of  any 
sort,  nor  yet  a  family,  nor  scarcely  a 
single  individual,  that  was  not  in  recent 
sorrow  for  some  dead  soldier.  Nor  did 
the  suffering  stop  at  this ;  for  almost  as 
large  as  the  count  of  the  dead  was  the 
number  of  maimed  and  diseased  men 
who  returned  from  the  battle-fields  to 
their  homes,  only  to  drag  out  a  life-long 
misery.  They  were  a  living  index  of 
the  horrors  of  war;  they  were  constant 
and  forceful  reminders  of  the  death- 
head  at  life's  feast.  Their  stories  were 
of  suffering  and  pain,  and  of  long 
marches  and  sudden  and  successful 
onslaught  of  the  enemy;  these  they 
retold  until  a  solemn,  heroic,  sorrow 
became  the  daily  food  upon  which  the 
nation  fed. 

Still   another   cause   there   was    for 

53 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

mourning.  Although  the  war  was  sup- 
posed to  be  over,  dangers  were  yet 
pending.  A  million  men  were  now 
away  in  the  Federal  army,  and  a  million 
firesides  were  in  deep  solicitude;  for  no 
wife  or  mother  knew  at  what  moment 
might  fly  to  her  the  words:  "Husband 
dead;  son  shot  through  the  heart;  will 
send  body  at  earliest  possible  date."  So 
it  was  that  the  smiting  of  Lincoln  made 
every  home  feel  more  insecure,  and  filled 
it  with  deeper  loneliness  and  fear  of  the 
future.  This  feeling  intensified,  and 
anxiety  multij)lied,  until  human  nature 
could  no  longer  endure  the  strain.  The 
whole  nation  collapsed;  saturated  itself 
in  tears;  covered  itself  over  with  sack- 
cloth, and  beheld  Lincoln  as  he  passed 
them  by  in  his  chariot  of  an  endless 
peace. 

Conspicuous   among   the   mourners, 
especia%  in  the  East  and  in  the  South, 

54 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

were  the  negroes.  During  four  years 
thej^  had  been  drifting  into  Washington 
and  Baltimore  by  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands. They  looked  on  the  President 
as  next,  if  not  equal,  to  the  Savior.  It 
is  said  that  an  army  colonel,  happening 
to  be  in  a  colored  meeting  in  North 
Carolina,  heard  some  of  them  talk  of 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  tell  their  impressions 
of  him.  An  old  white-haired  negro 
arose  to  reprove  and  instruct  the 
assembly.  "Brederin,"  he  said,  "bred- 
erin,  you  don't  know  nossen'  what  j^ou'se 
talkin'  'bout.  Now  you  jus'  listen  to 
me.  Massa  Linkum,  he  eberywhar ;  he 
know  eberyting;  he  walk  de  earf  like 
de  Lord."  The  benighted  people 
thought  Lincoln  could  feed  them  and 
clothe  them  and  care  for  them  all  their 
lives.  When  the  Freedmen's  Aid  was 
organized  and  took  them  in  hand,  nat- 
urally enough,  the  emancipated  negroes 
thought  Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  author  of 

55 


MOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

all  their  comforts.  When  the  time  came 
that  their  friend  was  carried  from  them 
to  the  tomb,  their  mourning  passed  all 
bomids;  it  was  as  deep  as  their  deeply 
emotional  natures.  Their  black  features 
were  distorted  and  made  more  homely; 
they  groaned  and  cried  aloud,  and 
wailed  above  the  wailing  of  the  other 
multitudes:  "Uncle  Sam  is  dead;  Uncle 
Sam  is  dead!  Oh,  Lo'd!  Oh,  Lo'd!  Oh, 
Lo'd!"  When  questioned  as  to  whom 
they  meant,  they  responded  in  groans: 
"Mr.  Linkum  is  dead,  de  man  who 
signed  'JNIancipation  Proclimation  is 
dead!  De  good  man  to  poo-ah  niggah 
is  dead,  an'  we'll  haf  to  go  down  to  de 
old  plantation  as  slaves  agen!  Oh, 
good  Lo'd,  hab  mercy;  Oh,  good  Lo'd, 
gib  us  help!  Mr.  Linkum  is  dead,  the 
niggah's  f ren'  is  dead !"  The  moaning 
of  some  of  the  negroes  in  the  far  South 
was  even  yet  more  melancholy.  They 
were  still  under  the  heel  of  the  master, 

56 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

and  they  felt  that  with  the  death  of  the 
President  all  hope  was  gone.  There 
were  four  millions  of  the  black  race  in 
densest  ignorance,  but  ignorance  did 
not  lighten  their  burden;  in  their 
despair  many  of  them  rocked  them- 
selves back  and  forth,  calling  all  the 
time:  "Oh,  Lo'd,  hab  mercy!  Oh,  good 
Lo'd,  hab  mercy  I" 

The  train  of  eight  coaches,  six  for 
the  mourners,  one  for  the  guard  of 
honor,  and  one — the  funeral  car — 
draped  within  and  without,  sped  at  last 
on  its  way  from  Washington  to  Balti- 
more, its  first  stopping-place.  That 
city  which,  four  years  earlier,  had  har- 
bored within  its  bosom  a  band  of  mis- 
creants having  as  their  object  the 
murder  of  Abraham  Lincoln  before  he 
could  be  inaugurated,  has  learned  the 
value  of  the  man,  and  now  receives  him 

57 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

in  solemn  reverence  between  its  columns 
of  countless  citizens. 

At  Philadelphia  the  President's  body 
was  taken  to  Independence  Hall.  In 
front  of  this  historic  building,  on  a  spot 
now  designated  by  a  well-known  tablet, 
four  years  before,  at  a  flag-raising,  ]Mr. 
Lincoln  had  declared  concerning  the 
principle  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence: "I  was  about  to  say^  I  would 
rather  be  assassinated  upon  this  spot 
than  surrender  it."  Within  that  hal- 
lowed edifice  he  now  lies,  while  for  him 
who  dared  to  die,  the  walls  were  heavily 
hung  with  crape.  The  head  of  the 
coffin  was  placed  near  the  old  Inde- 
pendence Bell.  That  bell,  broken  now, 
was  honored  as  never  before ;  there  were 
floral  festoons  and  garlands.  One  of 
the  wreaths  lying  at  the  head  of  the 
casket  contained  a  card  bearing  the 
inscription:  "Before  any  great  national 
event  I  always  have  the  same  dream. 

58 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

I  had  it  the  other  night.  It  was  of  a 
ship  saihng  rapidly."  Aye,  Lincohi's 
dream,  Longfellow's  Ship  of  State! 

The  old  Liberty  Bell  was  heavily 
draped,  as  though  it,  too,  were  dead. 
What  fitting  and  sympathetic  com- 
panions, this  bell  and  this  departing 
spirit !  Thus  might  they  have  held  con- 
verse : 

The  Bell:  "I  rang  the  Union  into 
existence." 

The  Spirit:  "I  maintained  the 
Union." 

The  Bell:  "I  proclaimed  liberty 
throughout  all  the  land,  to  all  the  inliab- 
itants  thereof." 

The  Spirit:  "I  gave  liberty  through- 
out all  the  land,  to  all  the  people 
thereof." 

The  Bell:  "I  am  useless  now;  I  am 
broken." 

The  Spirit:  "Having  finished  my 
work,  my  body  is  going  to  its  burial." 

59 


MOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

The  Bell:  "The  people  remember 
me  and  greatly  love  me." 

The  Spirit:  "Oh,  my  God,  wilt  Thou 
help  them  to  remember  me  and  love  me 
a  littler 

Love  him  a  little!  Love  him  a  lit- 
tle! Aye,  they  loved  him  so  greatly 
that  the  States,  during  long  days, 
remembered ;  they  stood  clad  in  mourn- 
ing, and  chanted  funeral  dirges.  For 
this  love  the  public  obsequies  began,  not 
on  the  day  appointed,  but  on  the  pre- 
ceding Saturday,  and  continued  on 
Sunday,  and  Monday,  and  Tuesday, 
and  Wednesday,  and  Thursday,  and 
Friday,  and  Saturday,  and  again 
through  another  week,  and  on  into  a 
third  week,  until  Thursday,  May  the 
4th. 

It  was  not  the  States  and  cities  alone 
which  gave  public  demonstration  of 
their  grief;  the  army  was  scattered 
from    New    York    to    Texas.     Some 

60 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

parts  of  the  army  heard  of  the  calamity 
on  the  day  following  the  fatal  shot; 
some  heard  of  it  in  a  week;  some  heard 
of  it  at  the  close  of  the  twenty  days' 
public  parade.  These  soldier  boys 
knew  the  President  intimately,  though 
they  had  never  looked  upon  his  face, 
yet  they  knew  him.  He  was  their 
Commander-in-Chief,  and  not  a  man  of 
them  could  be  persuaded  that  Mr.  Lin- 
coln was  a  stranger.  They  told  his 
stories  while  on  the  march;  when  they 
were  suffering  in  prison,  they  talked  of 
his  goodness;  they  sang  his  praises  as 
they  went  into  battle;  they  enlisted  in 
his  army,  shouting:  "We're  coming, 
Father  Abraham,  six  hundred  thousand 
strong!"  Now,  as  the  news  of  that 
awful  crime  reaches  the  different 
corps,  there  are  at  first  anger  and  curs- 
ings, and  then  deepest  sorrow.  "They 
have  killed  our  best  friend;  they  have 
killed  their  best  friend!"  moaned  the 

6i 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

soldiers.  A  million  voices  from  as 
many  enlisted  men  rose  and  fell  with 
the  cadence  of  the  funeral  march.  Here 
was  a  line  of  mourners  four  thousand 
miles  long.  They  march  into  camp  to 
muffled  drum;  they  bivouac  for  the 
night,  dreaming  of  Lincoln  as  they 
sleep.  Five  thousand  clergymen  were 
in  one  way  and  another  connected  with 
the  army,  and  many  of  these  deliver 
funeral  orations  for  the  illustrious  dead. 
The  incubus  of  woe  could  not  be  shaken 
from  this  mighty  mass  of  mourning 
men.  Their  chorus  of  grief  was  a  deep 
bass,  modulated  to  the  deeper  unspoken 
passion  of  love  for  their  great  com- 
mander. 

As  the  eight  funeral  coaches 
approached  the  INIetropohs,  the  public 
uprising  became  more  marked.  This 
city,  which,  two  years  before,  had  to 
cope  \Wth  a  mob  having  as  its  object 
the  cessation  of  the  draft,  arose  now 

62 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

with  its  myriads  and  filled  its  streets  with 
mourners.  A  few  days  before,  as  word 
arrived  that  Lee  had  surrendered,  this 
throng  spontaneously  burst  forth  sing- 
ing: "Praise  God  from  whom  all 
blessings  flow ;  Praise  Him  all  creatures 
here  below."  But  now  the  grand  dox- 
ology  has  altogether  ceased.  The  har- 
bor was  decked  with  flags  at  half-mast ; 
batteries  fired  their  minute-guns;  the 
society  of  affluence  and  culture,  which 
was  wont  to  ridicule  the  President  for 
his  uncouth  ways,  stands  awed  into  rev- 
erence and  love  before  this  man  on  his 
triumphal  tour  to  the  tomb. 

Mr.  Arnold,  in  his  Life  of  Lincoln, 
tells  of  a  remarkable  scene  which  was 
enacted  while  the  funeral  train  moved 
slowly  up  the  Hudson:  "In  one  of  the 
towns  near  the  Highlands,  a  tableau  of 
touching  beauty  had  been  arranged. 
Just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the 
Catskills,  the  train  slowly  approached 

63 


MOURNING    FOR     LINCOLN 

the  place,  and  the  mourners  upon  the 
train  saw  that  thousands  of  the  country 
people  had  gathered  around  an  open 
space,  near  the  bank  of  the  river.  This 
space  was  carpeted  and  draped  with 
flags;  slow,  sad,  pathetic  music  accom- 
panied the  approach  of  the  train,  and  a 
beautiful  lady,  representing  the  God- 
dess of  Liberty,  knelt  over  the  grave  of 
Lincoln,  holding  a  drooping  flag  draped 
in  mourning." 

Such  was  the  devotion  of  people  who 
knew  that  they  could  see  no  more  than 
the  passing  of  the  great  President. 
The  railroads  over  which  he  was  carried 
were  lined  with  delegates  from  sur- 
rounding towns.  Families  were  present 
from  places  five,  fifteen,  fifty  miles 
away;  they  came  just  to  look  on  a  car. 
Children  in  the  mother's  arms  were  held 
with  their  faces  towards  the  train,  and 
told,  as  if  it  were  possible  not  to  forget: 
"Baby,  look  there!  President  Lincoln 

64 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

is  in  that  coach;  he  was  shot  the  other 
night ;  look  now,  for  he  will  never  again 
come  this  way!"  Then  the  mother 
would  bury  her  face  in  the  folds  of  a 
black  veil  and  sob  aloud.  Families  so 
standing  and  waiting  became  friends 
while  they  stood;  for  had  not  each  a 
boy  in  the  arni}^  or  the  grave?  So  they 
talked  of  Tom  and  Joe  and  Harry,  and 
of  the  storm  which  was  sweeping  the 
continent. 

At  every  station  where  the  train 
stopped  were  floral  gifts  from  women. 
ISIany  were  beautiful  wreaths  to  which 
were  attached  cards  reading:  "A  lady's 
gift;  can  you  find  a  place?"  An  old 
negro  woman  with  a  rudely-made 
v/reath  in  her  hand,  crowded  herself 
into  the  presence  of  a  decorating  com- 
mittee, and  with  tears  in  her  ej^es 
begged  that  it  might  be  placed  on  the 
coffin.  The  wreath  bore  the  motto: 
"The  nation  mourns  his  loss.     He  still 

6s 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

lives  in  the  hearts  of  the  people."  Her 
offering  was  accepted.  Three  women 
entered  Independence  Hall  at  mid- 
night bearing  a  cross  of  milk-white 
flowers  to  which  was  attached  a  card 
bearing  the  inscription:  "A  tribute  to 
our  great  and  good  President,  who  has 
fallen  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  human 
freedom. 

'In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring; 
Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling.'  " 
And  these  floral  offerings  came  from 
those  who  mourned  greatest,  the  women. 
The  man  enters  the  swiftly-flowing 
stream  of  business  and  is  carried  along 
in  its  current,  the  woman  tarries  behind, 
alone ;  the  man  enters  the  army  to  fight 
gloriously  for  his  country,  the  woman 
remains  at  home;  the  man  rushes  on  to 
battle  and  is  slain,  the  woman  walks 
henceforth  companionless ;  with  Lin- 
coln, four  hundred  thousand  men  of 
the  North  forgot  in  the  tomb  all  pain 

66 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

and  sorrow,  but  with  ^Irs.  Lincoln, 
four  hundred  thousand  women  dropped 
amaranths  and  tears  on  the  graves  of 
the  men  whom  they  loved,  and  were 
comfortless. 

Behind  this  American  movement  of 
twenty  days'  mourning  for  the  illus- 
trious, like  the  background  of  a  picture, 
or  the  apex  of  a  pyramid  in  a  painting, 
or  a  mountain-range  pouring  its  flood 
into  already  inundated  valleys,  were 
lifted  above  the  vast  expanse  of  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  the  heads  of  European 
sympathizers.  For  months,  and  almost 
for  years,  during  the  Civil  War,  the 
textile  mills  of  Great  Britain  were 
closed,  the  artisans  thrown  out  of  a 
livelihood,  and  laborers  were  without 
bread;  the  weaving  enterprises  of  the 
empire  turned  not  a  wheel,  and  fortunes 
were  sunk  in  unproductive  plants.  Tlie 
cause  of  this  stagnation  in  business  was 

67 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

said  by  the  British  manufacturer  to 
be  Mr.  Lincoln.  Cotton  was  grown  in 
the  Southern  States,  and  Lincoln  had 
blockaded  every  port  from  Hampton 
Roads  to  Galveston,  and  no  cotton 
could  be  shipped  to  the  trans-Atlantic 
consumer.  Hence,  there  arose  a  mighty 
outcry  against  the  President.  The 
demand  was  loud  that  he  speedily  hft 
the  blockade  or  end  the  war.  He  was 
despised  as  an  agent  w^ho  was  ruining 
commerce,  as  well  as  defrauding  the 
textile  worker  of  his  hire.  But,  be  it 
said  to  the  Briton's  credit,  he  loved 
liberty;  he  had  freed  his  own  slaves,  and 
acknowledged  their  rights  under  the 
British  Constitution.  At  last,  Lincoln 
performed  an  act  which  won  for  him 
the  admiration  and  love  of  the  Briton. 
One  day,  the  newspapers  of  London 
announced  that  the  President  of  the 
United  States  had  signed  a  notable 
document,  the  Emancipation  Proclama- 

68 


MOURNING     FOE     LINCOLN 

tion.  By  this  act,  the  President  had 
proven  himself,  in  British  eyes,  worthy 
of  the  position  which  he  held  as  a  leader 
in  the  Anglo-Saxon  race;  and,  yes,  he 
had  so  won  the  respect  of  those  who 
were  formerly  his  enemies  in  England, 
but  who  were  now  his  friends,  that 
Queen  Victoria,  disregarding  the  habit- 
ual reserve  imposed  on  her  by  the 
House  of  Lords,  with  her  own  hand 
penned  words  of  consolation  and  con- 
dolence to  Lincoln's  stricken  wife. 

At  Paris,  the  city  which  loves  inde- 
pendence for  the  individual,  a  conven- 
tion of  Sunday-schools,  four  thousand 
in  numbers,  was  assembled  in  a  great 
tent.  The  chairman  arose  and  said: 
";My  children,  I  prepared  a  little  speech 
for  3^ou,  but  a  horrible  fact  has  just 
been  related  to  me.  The  President  of 
the  United  States  is  dead.  Abraham 
Lincoln  has  been  shot."  He  then  sat 
down  and  could  sav  no  more.     Several 

69 


MOURXIXG     FOR     LINCOLN 

ladies  could  not  restrain  their  weeping. 
An  American  gentleman  whispered  to 
one  of  them,  asking  her  if  she  too  was 
an  American.  "No,"  she  replied,  "I 
am  French;  but  I  have  followed  Mr. 
Lincoln's  course  from  the  beginning  of 
the  War,  and  now  I  feel  that  his  death 
is  a  personal  affliction." 

It  was  in  Paris,  too,  that  students 
marched  en  masse  to  the  American 
Legation  to  express  their  sjTnpathy. 
French  Liberals  started  a  two-cent  sub- 
scription for  the  purchase  of  a  massive 
gold  medal.  Their  committee  brought 
the  gift  to  the  American  minister,  who 
later  was  to  send  it  to  ]Mrs.  Lincoln. 
Thev  prayed  him:  "Tell  her  the  heart 
of  France  is  in  that  little  box."  The 
medal  had  this  inscription:  "Lincoln — 
the  Honest  ]\Ian — abolished  Slavery, 
reestablished  the  L^nion,  saved  the 
Republic,  without  veiling  the  Statue  of 
Liberty." 

70 


MOUKXIXG     FOU     LINCOLN 

Garibaldi,  whose  battle-cry  was, 
"Rome  or  death!"  and  who,  with  seven- 
teen thousand  "Chasseurs  of  the 
Alps,"  began  that  movement  which 
enabled  him  to  cro\Mi  Victor  Emmanuel 
King  of  Italy,  now  hearing  of  the  assas- 
sination exclaimed:  "It  is  horrible!  Half 
of  my  soul  has  been  taken  away  from 
me!" 

And  the  States  through  which  the 
funeral  moved  had  all  sent  their  bravest 
and  best  sons  to  strengthen  the  hands 
of  the  President  while  he  was  alive. 
New  York  had  contributed  twelve  per 
cent  of  her  population;  Pennsylvania, 
twelve  and  six-tenths ;  Ohio,  thirteen  per 
cent;  Indiana,  fourteen;  Illinois,  fif- 
teen,— all  to  Lincoln's  cause.  Over  a 
distance  of  sixteen  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  the  train  glided  through  avenues 
of  mourners.  They  who  stand,  hour 
after  hour,  by  the  side  of  the  railroads 

71 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

or  in  the  streets  of  the  great  cities,  as 
the  cortege  rolls  along,  realize  more  and 
more  that  the  best  beloved  of  the  sons 
of  men  is  among  them  for  the  last  time. 
They  are  in  the  presence,  not  of  a  con- 
queror only,  but  of  a  man  who  believed 
in  his  brother-man ;  they  longingly  gaze, 
not  upon  a  warrior,  though  he  was  in 
war,  but  upon  the  face  of  a  giver  of 
peace.  At  the  Crucifixion  of  that 
other,  greater  Emancipator,  centuries 
before,  few  mourned,  and  millions 
jeered;  at  the  death  of  this  eman- 
cipator, the  mourners  were  millions, 
the  scoffers  few;  thus  hath  the 
spirit  of  brotherliness  broadened  and 
deei)ened.  The  army  and  the  navy 
mourned;  statesmen  and  politicians, 
churchmen  and  educators,  societies 
and  everybody  mourned.  History 
has  left  no  other  picture  like  this 
on  the  canvas  of  the  world;  a  plain 
man  from  the  common  people,  stand- 

72 


IMOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

ing,  a  figure  of  love,  and  wisdom,  and 
patience,  during  four  years  of  fratri- 
cidal war,  sustains  a  Union,  the  object 
of  which  was  and  is  liberty  and  equality 
to  all,  becomes  so  great  that  he  fills 
the  century.  The  whole  world  looks, 
and  beholds — a  MAN. 

And  America  has  been  so  well- 
favored;  there  had  been  no  assassina- 
tion of  her  chief  executives — assassina- 
tions belonged  to  monarchies ;  there  was 
no  place  for  such  crime  where  the 
people  ruled ;  regicide  was  a  term  appli- 
cable only  in  a  land  where  kings  were 
on  the  throne.  A  government  of  the 
people  and  for  the  people  and  by  the 
people  was  God's  own  government. 
Providence  had  seemed  to  guard  the 
republic  and  its  chief  executive.  At 
first  this  was  especially  true  of  Mr. 
Lincoln ;  for  at  Cincinnati,  on  the  train 
which  carried  him  eastward  toward 
Washington,    for   his   first   inaugural, 

n 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

hand  grenades  were  found.  Provi- 
dence had  protected  its  own.  In  Phila- 
delphia, where  on  the  following  day  he 
was  to  raise  the  stars  and  stripes  over 
Independence  Hall,  a  messenger  arrives 
from  Baltimore  announcing  that  a  plot 
to  murder  him  as  he  passed  through  the 
latter  city  had  been  discovered.  To 
avoid  these  dangers,  he  went  in  the 
night,  unheralded  and  unknown, 
through  Baltimore;  he  was  unharmed. 
Again  Providence  had  smiled.  In 
Washington  rum.ors  flew  thick  and  fast 
that  ]Mr.  Lincoln  would  never  be 
inaugurated.  Desperate  parties,  so 
saj^s  report,  are  to  set  upon  him  and 
slay  him  before  he  reaches  the  Capitol. 
At  his  inauguration,  all  the  loyal  troops, 
six  hundred  and  fifty-three  in  number, 
that  have  been  or  can  be  secured  for 
his  protection,  march  in  front  and  rear 
and  on  the  flanks  of  the  Presidential 
party,  so  that  in  peace  he  vows  to  protect 

74 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  Union.  Truly,  Providence  has  now 
taken  him  by  the  hand.  Later,  attempts 
are  made  to  poison  him,  but  they  fail. 
Providence  enfolds  him.  It  is  rumored 
that  enemies  are  prepared  to  kidnap 
him  and  hand  him  over  to  the  Con- 
federates, or  hold  him  for  a  ransom ;  but 
all  these  treacherous  schemers  fail  in 
their  reckonings.  Before  enemies  at 
home  and  abroad  he  does  not  flinch. 
Cartoonists,  foreign  and  domestic,  ridi- 
cule him  as  a  man,  as  a  statesman,  as  a 
leader.  Providence  strengthens  him 
and  gives  him  courage.  Newspapers 
sting  him  relentlessly  and  ceaselessly; 
but  he  remains  the  man  of  Providence, 
plodding  upward.  Political  opponents 
attempt  to  overthrow  him  when  his  task 
is  only  half  finished,  but  Providence 
will  not  permit  them.  He  becomes  like 
the  head  of  a  comet  raised  to  the  nth 
power,  sweeping  in  omnipotence 
through  the  combined  oppositions  of 

75 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

friend  and  foe.  With  the  help  of  the 
Infinite,  in  which  he  claimed  to  trust,  he 
passes  triumphantly  through  the 
National  Republican  Nominating  Con- 
vention, and  through  the  national  elec- 
tions. Underneath  the  Man  of  Provi- 
dence are  the  Everlasting  Arms.  There 
streams  from  behind  this  comet-head 
innumerable  radiations  which  are  con- 
vergent upon  him  and  which  are  irre- 
sistibly drawn  after  him — voters, 
friends,  entire  families,  uprisen  socie- 
ties, hallowed  sanctuaries,  loyal  States, 
the  combined  North  in  military  proces- 
sion; there  are  offered  praj^ers  for  his 
safety,  petitions  for  his  success,  conse- 
crations of  youth  for  his  cause,  collec- 
tions of  money  for  his  hand,  train-loads 
of  provisions  for  his  soldiers,  acres  of 
lint — hand-made — for  his  wounded, 
square  miles  of  tents  for  his  hospitals, 
thousands  of  physicians  for  his  sick, 
and  as  many  more  thousands  of  nurses ; 

76 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  earth  is  devoted  upon  the  altar  of 
this  man.  There  is  a  flash  of  red 
sweeping  across  the  sky;  he  was  elected 
to  declare  war,  and  he  has  declared  it; 
there  is  an  appalling  scene  of  grandeur ; 
armies  are  advancing  for  the  encounter ; 
there  is  an  overwhelming  movement  of 
fire — villages  are  burned,  and  entire 
valleys  are  wrapped  in  conflagrations. 
Unswervingly  he  leads  the  procession 
of  stars;  they  feel  his  pull  and  answer 
to  his  call;  they  swing  into  right  lines, 
and  the  sweep  of  the  whole  becomes 
graceful,  beautiful,  powerful,  over- 
whelming. This  man  is  God's  man; 
God  has  not  mistaken  His  man.  This 
life  a  charmed  life,  which  charms  other 
lives;  it  is  love,  hght,  heat,  motion, 
triumph.  The  Man  of  Providence  was 
elected  to  declare  war,  and  he  declared 
it;  reelected  to  proclaim  peace,  and  he 
proclaimed  it — all  danger  is  now  over. 
Lo,  in  an  instant,  everything  is  changed 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

— there  is  no  "pull,"  no  light,  no  life; 
there  is, — death.  The  ]Man  of  Provi- 
dence has  ceased  to  be,  the  head  of  the 
comet  is  snuffed  out,  and  the  comet 
breaks  into  chaos.  The  disorganized 
multitudes  look — instead  of  light, 
behold  night;  they  seek  a  sphere  which 
shall  pull,  and  lo,  a  dismal  void!  For 
the  first  time  in  our  history  murder  has 
smitten  America's  Chief  Executive; 
jMurder  has  said  to  Providence: 
"Begone;  I  mil  rule  in  your  stead." 

The  more  you  try  to  become  recon- 
ciled to  first  calamities,  the  more  con- 
fused and  depressed  you  are — you  do 
not  and  cannot  understand  them. 

At  last,  the  dead  President  reaches 
his  home  State,  Illinois — that  great 
commonwealth  which  sent  him,  her  first, 
in  the  line  of  our  presidents.  How 
she  loved  him!  For  a  fortnight  she 
had  talked  of  nothing  but  his  home- 

78 


MOURNING     FOR    LINCOLN 

coming ;  she  had  worked  two  weeks  for 
nothing  else.  The  statehouse  in  Spring- 
field, where  he  lay  two  days  in  state, 
was  draped  from  basement  to  cornice 
with  heavy  black  velvet  fringed  with 
silver.  He  had  received  his  nomination 
in  Chicago,  and  the  women  of  that  city, 
to  the  number  of  ten  thousand,  had 
invited  him  to  their  fair;  he  had 
promised  to  come,  and  now  he  is  present 
for  two  days.  But  what  a  home-com- 
ing! The  proud  State  which  had 
furnished  vast  armies  for  the  President, 
and  would  gladly  furnish  others  if  only 
he  would  make  the  call,  now  throws 
open  her  bosom  and  plunges  into  it  the 
dagger  of  woe.  Railroads  multiplied 
their  trains  and  emptied  the  entire  coun- 
try into  the  city.  There  was  no  busi- 
ness, no  rush,  and  no  whirl — only  closed 
doors  and  draped  streets,  and  flags  bor- 
dered with  crape  and  festoonings  and 

79 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

funeral    wreaths — while    all    conversa- 
tion was  in  subdued  tones. 

Early  in  the  morning  a  woman  goes 
to  see  the  face  of  the  dead  President. 
That  she  may  be  home  early,  she  starts 
at  eight  o'clock,  and  enters  a  street  run- 
ning at  right  angles  to  the  procession. 
The  crowd  is  dense  and  she  is  pushed 
along,  but  her  way  is  soon  blocked  by 
those  in  front.  She  attempts  to  retrace 
her  steps,  but  finds  the  space  behind  her 
solidly  packed  with  people  bent  on  the 
same  mission  as  herself;  in  an  hour  she 
advances  a  foot;  there  she  stands  till 
ten  o'clock,  till  twelve,  till  four;  at  last, 
after  eight  hours'  waiting,  she  is  pushed 
into  the  stagnant  stream  flowing 
towards  the  funeral  car.  What  is  the 
siffht  which  meets  her  eves?  The  black 
funeral  car;  black  horses  with  black 
trappings;  postillions  in  black  hats; 
coaclimen  with  black  ribbons  tied  to 
whips;  black  carriages  with  occupants 

80 


MOUENING     FOE    LINCOLN 

clad  in  black  raiment,  wheels  whose 
spokes  were  entwined  with  black  bunt- 
ing; processions  with  black  badges, 
passing  between  densely  packed  tlirongs 
of  people  clad  in  black;  black  drapings 
over  windows,  black  crape  over  doors, 
black  festoonings  swinging  from  tree 
to  tree;  entire  bolts  of  black  cloth 
stretched  from  store  to  store  across  the 
streets;  arches  trimmed  in  black,  cano- 
pies of  canvas  hidden  with  black;  flags 
at  half-mast,  bordered  with  black; 
regiments  of  soldiers  home  on  furlough, 
or  on  duty,  with  caps  off  and  black 
crape  on  arm;  officers,  who  by  military 
orders  have  black  ribbons  tied  to 
swords;  policemen  with  black  gloves; 
women  with  black-bordered  handker- 
chiefs; children  around  whose  throats 
were  tied  black  ribbons;  black  every- 
where, black  everything;  black!  black! 
black ! 

Nor  was  there  any  effort  to  dispel 

8i 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

the  unprecedented  gloom ;  ever  since  the 
fatal  shot  of  Booth  it  was  exactly  what 
the  mourners  longed  for,  prayed  for, 
and  labored  for.  It  was  as  if  an  army 
of  the  living  were  gathered  in  an 
unbroken  forest  to  bury  an  army  of  the 
dead ;  or  as  if  a  nation  were  arrayed  for 
sacrificial  rites  to  the  grim  giant  Death, 
in  death's  only  garb,  deep  trailing  black. 
For  the  nation  had  been  deceived,  sur- 
prised and  violently  shocked  by  the  sud- 
den death  of  Lincoln.  At  Appomat- 
tox Courthouse,  by  stipulations  signed 
by  General  Lee  and  dehvered  to  Gen- 
eral Grant,  war  was  at  an  end,  and  in 
the  place  of  the  Death  Angel  the  Angel 
of  Peace  had  arrived.  Delirious  joy 
seized  alike  both  Xorth  and  South;  both 
had  seen  enough  of  war  and  death. 
Intoxications  of  delight  filled  both 
civilian  and  soldier.  When  word  of 
the  surrender  was  announced  to  the 
Union  army,  the  air  was  full  of  hats, 

82 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

and  vociferous  acclamations  echoed  and 
reechoed  from  fen  and  upland,  from 
forest  and  rocky  hill-top,  and  rippled 
along  the  distant  valleys  like  merry  lit- 
tle rivulets.  No  dash  of  spring-time 
shower  followed  by  burst  of  brilliant 
sunbeams  ever  gladdened  the  bosoms  of 
fields  of  new-born  flowers  into  filling 
the  earth  with  fragrance  like  the  mes- 
sage of  the  Peace  Angel  filled  the  land 
vnth  universal  good-will  towards  every- 
one. A  new  era  is  arrived,  and  Lincoln 
will  be  its  master-mind ;  he  is  needed  for 
his  helpful  and  almost  hallowed  wit; 
needed  as  leader  in  the  joy  festival  which 
has  already  begun ;  needed  in  the  recon- 
struction of  the  Union.  Lincoln  is  the 
center  of  the  arch  between  the  North 
and  the  South;  between  the  old  and 
the  new;  between  what  was  and  what 
ought  to  be  and  what  must  be;  and 
underneath  the  arch,  with  its  magnifi- 
cent   span,    is — Death    Valley.      The 

83 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

center  of  the  arch  is  dislodged  and 
drops;  on  either  side  is  a  column 
crumbling  and  ready  to  fall.  Man's 
arch-enemy,  Death,  has  appeared  again. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  for  twenty  days 
the  people  mourn;  no  wonder  that  for 
more  than  two  weeks  they  drape  the 
city ;  no  wonder  that  they  saturate  them- 
selves in  somberness.  The  never-to-be- 
forgotten  Good  Friday  of  long  ago, 
on  which  The  Great  Emancipator  was 
assassinated,  had  three  hours  of  dark- 
ness, but  the  estimation  of  emancipa- 
tors is  growing.  The  Good  Friday  of 
Eighteen  Hundred  and  Sixty-five 
opened  into  a  sepulchral  cavern  through 
which  for  twenty  days  a  countless  host 
marched  in  ever-deepening  gloom.  They 
were  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death;  aye,  in  the  Valley  of  Death 
itself.  Stalwart,  full-grown  men  were 
at  the  mercy  of  the  midnight  storm  of 
Death    sweeping    and    swinging    and 

84 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

whirling  and  howling  in  all  its  might 
through  the  valley.  Death,  with  all  his 
emissaries  of  foe  and  famine  and  pes- 
tilence and  personal  grudge  and  insane 
hate,  seemed  pillaging  and  beating  and 
crushing,  without  resistance  or  hin- 
drance, and  driving  the  bereaved  into 
the  valley.  The  very  air  which  they 
breathed  came  from  the  nostrils  of 
Death;  it  suffocated,  and  nauseated, 
and  poisoned,  and  made  them  faint. 

For  thirteen  days  the  body  of  the 
best-loved  President  was  carried  with 
reverence  as  of  angel-hands,  from  city 
to  city  of  our  heart-broken  land.  An 
epoch-maker  is  being  borne  to  the  tomb, 
and  the  bearers  totter  beneath  the  bur- 
den ;  it  is  heavy,  and  they  are  weak,  and, 
as  if  by  contagion,  the  load  is  passed 
from  bearer  to  mourner,  and  all  are 
dragged  into  the  dust.  In  storm  and 
sunshine,  at  midday  and  midnight,  the 

8s 


MOUEXIXG     FOR     LIXCOLX 

mourners    are    gathered.     At    last    he 
rests  in  his  own  home,  but  there  is  no 
rest  for  his  children;  the  burden  which 
was  his  for  four  long,  bitter  years,  and 
which  he  carried  uncomplainingly,   is 
theirs;  now  their  father  is  with  them, 
they  will  take  one  brief  look  at  him,  they 
will  bid  him  welcome,  and  sav  farewell. 
And  so  the  cliildren  come,  some  clad 
in  broadcloth  and  some  in  rags;  they 
come,  the  cultured  and  the  ignorant; 
thev  come,  some  with  face  as  fair  as 
the  angel  and  some  hideous  and  hard 
in  crime ;  they  come,  old  men  palsied  and 
tottering  towards  the  grave,  and  babes 
borne   in   mothers'    arms;    thev    come, 
voun^  rnen  and  beautiful  maidens — 
marching,    halting,    stopping,    starting 
again;   crushing   against   one   another, 
forward  they  move — one  glimpse  at  the 
Great  ]^Jan,  and  they  are  pushed  aside 
by  the  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
coming  behind,  and  still  other  thousands 

86 


MOUENING     FOE     LIXCOLX 

behind  these.  What  a  demonstration! 
What  a  scene  of  sorrow!  What  an 
exhibition  of  love !  This  was  the  great 
day  of  mourning  since  the  world  began ; 
no  other  page  of  history  has  so  much 
black  ink  upon  it,  nor  is  there  another 
sodden  with  so  many  tears ;  no  other  day 
has  its  walls  so  heavily  draped,  nor  its 
chambers  so  silent  and  sad.  In  Illinois 
a  legend  declares  that  the  brown  wood- 
thrush,  which  pipes  loudest  when  the 
storm  laughs  most,  refused  to  sing  for 
an  entire  year. 

Finallv,  the  children  bear  their  father 
to  Oak  Ridge  Cemetery,  just  outside 
of  Springfield.  It  was  a  cold  bed  they 
made  for  him,  but  it  was  the  best  that 
they  could  give.  There  rest  the  mortal 
remains  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  the 
emancipator  of  a  race,  America's  chief 
martjT.  Without  shedding  of  blood 
there  is  no  remission  of  sin,  and  the 

87 


MOUENING     FOR     LINCOLN 

blood  shed  for  such  a  purpose  is  always 
that  of  the  innocent. 

An  artist  lays  in  his  colors,  angles 
and  forms,  and  changes  them  as  his 
fancy  wills ;  but  when  he  comes  to  pure 
white  light  he  has  reached  his  limit — 
the  glory  of  the  sun  has  never  been 
improved  upon.  And  the  moving  lights 
and  shadows  and  growing  gloom  of  the 
mourning  days  of  1865  were  the  somber 
settings  behind  which  God  the  Artist 
was  to  paint,  with  one  last  illuminating 
stroke — a  struggling  soul  in  triumph. 

There  is  an  averment  that  on  the  day 
the  President  died  a  star  stood  above 
the  city  of  Washington,  so  marked  was 
it  in  brilliancy  that  many  comments 
were  made  concerning  its  appearance. 

When  Abraham  Lincoln  breathed  his 
last.  Secretary  Stanton  broke  the  sil- 
ence by  saying:  "Now  he  belongs  to  the 
ages." 


88 


The  Ages  are  the  workshop  of  the  Infinite, 
Where  he  robes   the   night  and  streams  the 

light 
And  turns  his  lathe  and  makes  the  spheres; 
And  builds  the  days  into  gliding  years. 

Out  of  the  Ages  great  men  come : 
Out  of  the  heat  where  the  day's  begun  : 
Out  of  the  soot  and  sparks  of  night; 
Out  of  the  whirl  of  engend'ring  right 
They  train  along  with  a  rumbling  might. 

Out  from  the  Ages  they  are  sent, 
And  as  they  move  they  make  huge  rent 
Across  the  earth  and  all  its  pages: 
They  shift  in  scenes  upon  earth's  stages, 
The  raging  wars,  the  waving  palms. 
The  pulsing  storms,  the  glowing  calms. 

Nor  do  we  know  them  as  they  are, 

For  underneath  us  now  they  jar 

With  avalanchine  tread  the  earth. 

And  set  our  fears  a-trembling 

Like  fallen  leaves  assembling 

Before  the  North-wind  hurrying 

When  Boreas  bounds  from  out  his  berth. 


•Copyflght  X903,  by  FRANK  W.  Z.  BarrbtI 

89 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

Here  he  comes  from  out  the  Ages, 
Wielding-  armies  as  work-men  sledges; 
And  with  them  lays  he  level  and  low, 
On  left,  on  right,  in  front  and  rear. 
The  modes  of  men,  their  vices  sere. 

Behold,  while  he  doth  rock  creation! 
Behold,  while  he  remolds  the  nation, 
And  breathes  into  it  hopes  of  sages! 
Behold  him  passing  to  the  Ages, 
While  from  the  grimly  grip  of  carnage, 
He  doth  wrest  and  hold  against  it,  Life 
While  he  doth  say,  "Be  still!"  to  strife. 

Into  the  Ages  the  great  man  g-oes 

Like  a  column  of  crystal 

In  the  City  Celestial: 

Like  a  capital  carved 

By  some  Phidian  chisel 

Into  lily  and  lilac  and  rose. 

His  life,  all-apparent, 

Like  the  column  transparent, 

Like  the  lily  in  whiteness. 

Like  the  lilac  in  sweetness  and  brightness, 

Like  the  rose  in  its  love-laden  story. 

Sustains  through  the  ages  God's  glory. 

Up  through  the  portals  of  the  Great  Unknown 
A  voice  greets  the  just,  "My  own!  My  own!" 
So  he  bides  with  the  great  where  the  great 

take  their  place : 
And  his  empire  is   endless   as   is  unfolding 

space. 

90 


MOURNING     FOR     LINCOLN 

On  his  head  doth  the  Infinite  encircle  a  crown 
As  Time  on  his  forehead  hath  'graven  renown: 
"Faithful  and  True"  is   the  name  which  he 

bears, 
And     dominion's     bestowed    by    the    crown 

■which  he  wears. 

THE  AGES  BELONG  TO  HIM  NOW. 


9t 


7 


